Chapter 43

43

As the dreary winter months crawled into 1945, Jana's highlight was visiting Babi and the children on Sundays. Today, Papa was at home with a heavy cold, so on this crisp, March morning, she headed out alone to the bus stop. She had packed a bag full with young children's books for Maddie and Michal. For Yveta, now thirteen years old, she'd brought Jane Eyre .

As she approached the bus stop, she caught sight of Dasha on the other side of the road and stepped forward to wave. Something thumped against her elbow with such force that her bag flew to the ground, the books spilling out. The cyclist that had hit her did not stop but hurled abuse at her as he pedalled on.

Dasha hurried over and knelt to help Jana. ‘Are you hurt? What an oaf that cyclist is. What are you doing with your old children's books?'

‘Oh, donating them,' Jana said, flustered, rubbing her elbow.

‘Why don't you bring them to the church where I help out. We need children's books and toys.' She retrieved the last book and handed it to Jana with a smile .

‘Next time. I promised these to someone else.'

‘No doubt you're taking the bus to your grandma as it's Sunday? Where does she live exactly?'

‘In the middle of nowhere,' Jana forced a laugh and changed the subject. ‘How's the family?'

The two friends chattered till Jana's bus arrived and Dasha waved her off.

A week later, Papa still had a bad cough, so Jana caught the bus on her own. She looked out the window and thought about her friendship with Dasha; they had drifted apart the last few months, since Jana had stopped the book club.

She pictured Dasha's enquiring look as she'd picked up the fallen books. Had she suspected something? Unlikely. And anyway, Dasha was a close friend and would never betray her. Surely?

No, Jana was more worried about Pavel; he had been actively involved in Michal's escape and knew that he was with Babi. But he had been involved in other anti-Nazi activities and hated the regime. Would he turn against her and collaborate with his sworn enemy? Did he still bear a grudge that she'd rejected him? Oh, for goodness' sake, she was being paranoid. Treachery was a spectre that loomed over everyone, each person suspicious and afraid of friends and neighbours. And as people became poorer and more desperate, the Germans were waiting to lure them into acts of betrayal.

Jana shook her head to clear her thoughts of traitors and spies and settled back for the half-hour journey, closing her eyes. Within moments, she was thinking about Andrej; it was nearly three years since he'd disappeared and there hadn't been one iota of news. He had simply vanished. But, of course, that's what the Gestapo did: made people vanish. She had to somehow come to terms that he was no longer alive. Her heart wrenched. Terrible images floated into her mind of how Andrej might have met his death and she sprung open her eyes to avert them.

The bus stopped and more passengers boarded. A young girl about Yveta's age approached the seat beside her, asking if it was free. Jana nodded her consent and the girl sat down, drew a book from her handbag and began to read.

If only Yveta could be free to do something as simple as ride a bus and read a book in public. She was going through puberty and if that wasn't hard enough, she was separated from her mother and in hiding from the Nazis. Jana would make an extra effort with her today, try to reach behind the wall the young girl had built and hope that she would eventually accept Jana's friendship.

As the bus neared her stop, she redid the top buttons of her coat and slipped her hands into her gloves. Jana checked her watch; the bus was on time and Babi would be expecting them. Her mood lifted at the prospect of spending the rest of the day playing and reading with the children, all in the warm company of her sprightly grandmother.

Jana walked the short distance from the bus stop but before she had a chance to raise the knocker, the door opened. Babi, her expression nervous and urgent, beckoned her in. The three children stood fully dressed in the narrow hallway, their faces barely visible beneath their thick scarves and woolly hats. Both girls were wearing boys' trousers, not the usual dresses they wore on a Sunday. Three pairs of solemn eyes met her gaze.

‘What's the matter?' asked Jana, noticing the rucksack at Yveta's feet .

‘Police are in the village asking questions. About Jewish children,' said Babi.

‘No! Are you sure?' Jana said, fear closing her throat.

‘The postmistress told me less than an hour ago. I walked into the village to collect my post.'

Jana's thoughts stumbled over each other, panic paralysing her.

‘Now, listen. I've packed food and drink,' Babi said, pointing at the rucksack. ‘You must leave immediately with the children.'

‘But where should we go?' Jana said, overwhelmed.

‘I have an old school friend in the village of Zbraslav. You've heard me talk of her: Milada Jesenska. She lives in the first house after the village sign at the side of the road.'

‘But she doesn't know me. I can't just turn up with three children.'

‘She's a good woman; we went through a lot together during the last war.' Babi held Jana's arm and looked at her with steady eyes. ‘She will help you.'

‘But how do we get there and how far is it?' Jana's voice rose in panic. This was all happening too fast. She glanced at the children, terrified at the responsibility. When she'd smuggled them out of Prague, she'd had time to plan. Looking wildly at Babi, she shook her head. ‘It's too dangerous…'

Babi spoke in a calm, assured voice. ‘You can do this, Jana. Breathe. Come on, Jana, Breathe.'

Jana did as Babi told her and after a few moments, her mind cleared.

‘Tell me,' she said, her voice now resolute.

‘You'll leave from the back of the house, over the fence and across the field till you come to the train track. Follow the track to your left, keeping yourself hidden between the trees until you get to Zbraslav station. It's about thirty kilometres which will take a few hours, but you'll arrive before nightfall.'

‘And from the station?'

‘Then follow the road for another kilometre which leads to the village. Now, let's go.'

Babi sped them through the house and into the garden.

‘But what happens once we're there?' said Jana as she adjusted the rucksack on her back.

‘We'll work it out once the coast is clear. I'll get word to you. But first, we need to get the children out of here.' Her words were vague but Jana knew Babi was thinking on her feet.

Babi lifted an old garden chair and carried it to the fence.

‘But what will happen to you, Babi? The police will come here. Or worse, the Gestapo.'

‘They have no proof of anything. The children and I packed away all the toys and books. If I'm questioned, I'll say the things are from my sons' childhood. You go over first, Jana, and I'll pass the children over to you.'

Jana looked at the chair and back at Babi, terrified for her. What did the police know? How did they find out about the children? Did someone betray them? But there was no time to dwell. She threw her arms around her beloved grandma, tears filling her eyes.

‘Please, stay safe, Babi.'

‘You too, my precious girl.'

Jana longed to linger in her embrace but Babi pushed her away gently, and held on to the chair. ‘Hop up.'

At that moment, Yveta rushed at Babi and buried her head against her shoulder.

‘I'm not leaving you,' she said.

‘Now, now.' Babi patted Yveta's back. ‘I need you to be strong. You must look after your sister and Michal. I'm relying on you. '

Yveta let out a muffled sob, shaking her head.

‘Please, come,' said Maddie in a tiny voice, tugging on Yveta's coat.

Jana watched the scene, sorrow tugging at her heart.

‘We'll come back again,' she said, not sure if she believed her own words.

Reluctantly, Yveta drew away from Babi and took Maddie's hand. ‘I'm ready now,' she said with a sniff.

Jana climbed onto the chair. She gave Babi one last look, swung up her arms and grabbed the top of the fence. Then she scrambled over the top, grateful she was wearing a flared dress that allowed her legs movement. She dropped down to the other side with a thud. The earth was still hard, but the snow had nearly gone.

A shuffle, a grunt from Babi and Maddie's face appeared over the top of the fence. Jana held up her arms and Maddie jumped into them. Next came Michal, his eyes wide with fear and excitement. Jana caught him and swung him to the ground. Then she looked up waiting for Yveta. Seconds ticked past. Babi was saying something, her tone urgent. Still there was no sign of the girl.

A rumble of car engines broke the quietness.

‘Yveta,' hissed Jana. If Yveta didn't come, she would have to flee without her. But she couldn't leave her to the mercy of the Germans.

Again, she called her name.

The noise of the car motors neared.

Then stopped… Car doors slammed.

Jana grabbed Michal and Maddie's hands and looked over her shoulder; they would have to be swift to reach the shelter of the conifers.

‘Babi,' she called. ‘What's?— '

The fence shook, and Yveta scrambled over. Jana held out an arm to steady her, but she ignored the help and jumped down easily on her long legs. They raced away, Jana trying not to think of Babi opening the door to face the police. Her immediate task was to get the children to safety.